Fruit of the Poisoned Tree plgm-2 Page 17

  “do you have some idea who that is?”

  “check out some newspapers for names. maybe other people have been poisoned. They might have something in common with your friend.”

  The small IM screen told her that Nightflyer had gone off-line. His cryptic message was annoying. This was important to her. If he had information that could help, she wished he’d just give it to her. Everything seemed like a game to him. It was hard to imagine John liking the man, as forthright as John was. But maybe Nightflyer had changed. Maybe there was more to it than she realized.

  The Elmwood Farms’ page finally came up. A green, grassy meadow with pretty elm trees and a bright red barn gave the index page a nice profile. Who wouldn’t want to buy honey or any of the other products they had? It looked very wholesome and appealing.

  She clicked on the product list when she saw no warning signs on the opening page. Was it possible no one else had reported problems with the honey? Elmwood Farms’ products included fresh eggs, honey, butter, cheese, and various cakes and breads. There was no sign of anything wrong on any of the Web site pages.

  Peggy checked out her normal news sites. She couldn’t find any stories about Elmwood Farms. But she did find an article about a mysterious poisoning in Dubuque, Iowa. When she clicked on the link to the story, she read about another man who’d been poisoned by substances unknown. He was recovering in the hospital after being treated. She wrote down all of the information about the case and forwarded the link to her home computer.

  As terrible as it was to think it, more than one poisoning could save Beth from further investigation. If the bees from Elmwood got into a batch of horse chestnut, that was no wrongdoing on anyone’s part. Maybe it was all a terrible mistake.

  Except for Isabelle . . .

  By that time, customers were starting to come into the store. Her mind seethed with the possibilities as she rang up sales on her new antique garden furniture selection. The unit was designed to look like an 1890s cupboard but was made of treated lumber and wrought iron so it could be used outdoors to store garden supplies.

  The beauty of the sales was that she didn’t have to stock more than one of the cupboards. The company drop shipped directly from her orders to the customers’ homes. She had to do what she could with limited space and an ever-questing market of gardeners looking for new products. The cupboards would be functional and enhance the beauty of the yard as well.

  Selena came in at noon. Her morning exams didn’t go well. She looked like a little girl who was denied a toy. “Dammit, Peggy!” She slammed her book bag on the counter after seeing there was no one else in the shop. “I did a good job on those essays! Professor Martin hates me. I don’t know why, but he’s got it in for me.”

  “From the other side of the aisle,” Peggy rebutted, “maybe he thinks you could do better. Have you talked with him?”

  “If you’re going to get someone to work harder, giving them a bad grade isn’t much incentive. Now I feel like coasting through the rest of the year. I’ve tried hard in that class. What’s the point if nothing I do is good enough?”

  “You should definitely talk to him, Selena,” Peggy advised, picking up her jacket and book bag. “I hate to have to run, but I have that appointment with the dog trainer this afternoon. Talk to Professor Martin. Ask him what the problem is.”

  Selena pushed her book bag behind the counter and plopped down on the rocking chair. “I know what his problem is. He’s an arrogant idiot. He’s so full of himself he can’t see past the end of his nose. And he’s got a really big nose, so he’s probably been that way all of his life! I can’t stand him. No one can.”

  Peggy laughed. “Thinking about him that way won’t help. I should be back by four. Maybe you can take off early and go see him. Work something out. I’ll talk to you later. We’ve been a little busy in the last hour.

  “I get the idea.” Selena tied on her green Potting Shed apron. “I think you might be seeing this as a professor instead of my friend. Maybe by the time you come back, you could try to be more receptive to my whining.”

  “I’ll do the best I can, sweetie. Take care.” Peggy ignored the rumbling in her stomach as she smelled the delicious aromas coming from Anthony’s Caribbean Café. She raced home on her bike, grateful for the dry streets under the warm February sun. It was a good day for Sam and Keeley, too. It could be difficult to schedule planting days in the winter between the cold and the rain, but the landscaping business was an important aspect of what the Potting Shed did to survive.

  She picked up her mail and let herself in the house. Shakespeare was barking and howling, throwing himself against the door in the pantry. But at least everything else in the house was the way she left it that morning. Measuring his discomfort against her own seemed unfair, but she had to survive, too.

  Peggy hoped to have some message from Mai when she got home, even though she knew Mai had her cell phone number and the number at the shop. She’d call if anything came up. Obviously, there were no updates on the honey. Of course, for all she knew, the ME could decide it wasn’t important enough to bring up the investigation again. She didn’t always understand the political aspect of the law. But she knew things weren’t ever black and white.

  Peggy let Shakespeare out and took him for a walk. It consisted of him trying to pull her arm out of its socket. She finally called a halt to the torture as soon as he went to the bathroom in the yard. He whined and looked eagerly at the rest of the yard. “That’s not going to happen,” she told him. “Not until you learn some manners.”

  She took the dog back inside. Both of them were eating lunch while she surfed the Internet for more information about any poisoning cases in the last few days. An abrupt knock on the door brought Paul in the kitchen. He was dressed for work in his tidy blue uniform. He’d recently had his hair cut and still smelled of spicy aftershave and soap from a shower.

  He hugged her, then took off his jacket. “You’re trying to ruin my career in law enforcement, aren’t you? You couldn’t win arguing with me about not being on the job, so you found another way.”

  She looked up from her hummus and pita sandwich. “Are you feeling all right? Would you like some lunch?”

  “I’m fine. I ate a sandwich on the way over here.” He glared at her. “You know I love you, Mom. And we both know you didn’t want me on the job because of what happened to Dad. But I thought we settled this thing between us. If you still don’t want me to wear the uniform, say so. Let’s talk it out. Don’t try to sabotage me.”

  Peggy swallowed the pita in her mouth, then took a swallow of lemon tea. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about, Paul.”

  “I’m talking about your new business as a private detective. Did you think I wouldn’t hear about your run-in with the lieutenant this morning? And I wish you’d leave Mai out of this. We need her income to afford the house. She can’t afford to get fired because of you!”

  It was the perfect opportunity for Peggy to tackle him about the house on Mai’s behalf. But she obviously had a few strokes against her already. She knew he wouldn’t appreciate her telling him what Mai couldn’t. At least not at that moment. “What I did had nothing to do with you, Paul. I knew there wasn’t any time to explain all the details to the police or wait for them to come up with a search warrant on my information. I did the best I could to help Park.”

  “How many times are you going to put your life on the line to help people? You aren’t trained to search for evidence. You could’ve been hurt out there at the landfill.” He sighed and played with the small, silver saltshaker on the wood table. “Don’t worry. I know about you and the lieutenant. Mai gave me all the details. But he doesn’t know about the ME wanting to reopen the investigation because of the honey you found. Yet. He’s not gonna like it when he finds out.”

  “He does?”

  “What?”

  “The ME wants to reopen the investigation because of the honey I found?”

  “Yes. I
told Mai this would only encourage you! They don’t need your help.” He took her hands in his. Green gazes collided across the laptop. “Stay away from this, please. For my sake, if not your own.”

  “I won’t do anything I don’t have to do,” she promised, taking her hands out of his clasp. “That’s the best I can offer. I want to know the truth about what happened to Park.”

  He nodded but didn’t look at her. “Fine. I have to go. I just wanted you to know the lieutenant talked about you in our briefing this morning.”

  Peggy didn’t know whether to be pleased or offended. “What did he say?”

  “He said no one should give information to busybodies who think they’re amateur detectives. He called you a busybody and a snoop, Mom.”

  She tried but couldn’t suppress the smile that sprang to her lips. Really, she knew she should take it more seriously. She just couldn’t. “Did he call me a busybody by name? I mean was it like, ‘Peggy Lee is a busybody and a snoop. Don’t talk to her.’ Or was it more general?”

  Paul didn’t find it amusing. “Everyone knew he was talking about my mother. It made me feel like an idiot.” His voice lowered dramatically. “Think about it. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Peggy watched him leave before she giggled. “He’s always had a bent for melodrama.” She sighed as she stroked Shakespeare’s head, which rested on her lap. “I wish there was a school I could take him to. But it’s probably too late for him anyway. Some old dogs won’t learn new tricks.”

  Carlos Gonzales, the garbageman turned taxi driver, picked her and Shakespeare up a few minutes later. She told him about her trip to the landfill. He laughed when she described the landfill manager. “I know him. He tries to charge everybody for everything. You were smart. Did you find what you were looking for?”

  She was careful about what she told him. She liked Carlos but didn’t want the information in the newspaper tomorrow. As she described finding the honey jar, she wondered if Paul had something to do with Mai not calling her about the ME’s decision to reopen the investigation.

  Peggy took out her cell phone as Carlos navigated the high-speed traffic on the interstate. Should she call Mai? Or should she leave well enough alone? She didn’t want her to lose her job or get in any trouble. Maybe she should wait and let Mai tell her that she couldn’t do anything else.

  Looking down from watching traffic before they came to the ramp she was beginning to despise, she noticed there were four messages on her cell phone. How had she missed them? She checked them and found that they were all from Mai. It was a simple mistake. She turned off her ringer at the police station that morning and forgot to turn it back on.

  Mai answered her phone on the first ring. “Peggy! I’ve been trying to reach you all morning! The ME wants to see you. I told him you had some samples of poisoned honey. He wants you to bring them by. Will you do that?”

  PEGGY AND RUE SAT down, exhausted by their workout with Shakespeare. He started acting up when he walked through the front door at Whiskers and Paws. A woman with a new kitten was leaving. Shakespeare saw the kitten and let out a deep, booming bark. The kitten yowled, scratched its owner, and jumped to the floor. In the ensuing confusion, three flowerpots were broken and several chairs were knocked over.

  After that beginning, things got worse. Peggy held Shakespeare’s leash while Rue took him through a series of commands. When he was told to sit, Shakespeare barked. When Rue pointed to the floor and told him to lie down, he jumped up on her, putting his large paws on her shoulders and almost knocking her over. No matter what they tried to get him to do, Shakespeare did the opposite.

  “I don’t understand what’s wrong with him,” Peggy huffed, lying back in her chair. Shakespeare was at her feet. He whined and covered his face with his paws. “I know he wasn’t this bad before I went to Pennsylvania. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  Rue shook her head. “Some dogs have a harder time learning. He’s a tough cookie, but we’ll work it out. He might’ve been thrown off by chasing the kitten when he first came in. Or maybe it’s the new surroundings. We’re not off to a great start right now, but I’m sure things will get better.”

  “I hope so.” Peggy glanced at her watch, then got to her feet. “I have to go. Thank you for putting up with us. We’ll see you Thursday.”

  “Not a problem. It’ll work out.”

  “And I’ll replace those vases my big nitwit broke, Rue. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Peggy. Just be careful with him. I’d hate for you to get hurt before we calm him down!”

  Carlos came back for them. He laughed and couldn’t believe Shakespeare wouldn’t follow the trainer’s commands at the shop. “He’s always so good in the car. Aren’t you, boy? Maybe it was the way she was talking to him.”

  Shakespeare barked and jumped over into the front seat, almost managing to sit on Carlos’s lap. Peggy tugged on his leash and ordered him into the backseat while Carlos tried to steer the taxi around the dog that was almost as big as him.

  When Peggy finally got Shakespeare to move, Carlos straightened his cap and looked in the rearview mirror at her. “That’s a lot of dog, Peggy. You gotta be careful he doesn’t break your arm.”

  Peggy, who was almost sitting on Shakespeare to keep him down in the backseat, was breathing hard when she promised to be careful. “Maybe this is too much dog for me after all. I went from not having any pets to this monster. It would probably have been better if I’d found a poodle.”

  Carlos let them off at Peggy’s house. He promised to come back for her at the same time Thursday. She told Shakespeare what she thought of his behavior as she walked him in the front yard for a few minutes. She didn’t let him off of his leash like she usually did when they went into the house. Instead, she walked him into the laundry room, told him to stay, and closed the door.

  She made herself a cup of sassafras tea to steady her nerves while she checked her phone messages. The university was asking for all school personnel to attend a training/awareness seminar on how to handle early dismissal for bad weather. She glanced at the big clock on the kitchen wall. She was already twenty minutes late for that. Not that she saw much point in having a seminar for letting people out of school early.

  Instead, she tried to relax as she drank her tea. It was a homemade brew. Her mother went out to find the mitten-shaped leaves on the sassafras tree and dig for the roots to make her own tea back home. There was a railroad track by the house, a place sassafras loved to grow. Her mother walked the track for hours to get enough root to dry and carefully preserved her stock.

  Drinking it made her think of home and her childhood. Her grandmother always made them drink sassafras as spring was approaching. She said it was a good spring tonic. It wasn’t until later, when Peggy began studying plants, that she knew the science behind it. Sassafras was a stimulant, a poison actually, when used in its purest form. The orange brown tea helped the body get over the human slowdown that accompanied winter. And it was delicious!

  She finally called Mai to let her know she’d be at the precinct by three thirty. That would give her plenty of time to talk with the medical examiner, show him her samples, and still be at the Potting Shed before five. She was looking forward to meeting the ME, despite Mai’s assertions that the man was obnoxious.

  Just when she thought she had everything in hand, the front doorbell rang. She opened the door to find Beth and a young man in a dark gray business suit on her doorstep.

  “How could you do this, Peggy?” Beth cried and wrung her hands. “How could you do this to me?”

  “David Rusch.” The young man tripped over the edge of the rug at the door as he tried to shake Peggy’s hand. “I’m representing Mrs. Lamonte for Lamonte, Rusch and Peterson.”

  Peggy could see the resemblance between father and son. Same dark hair and gray eyes. Except the elder Rusch was much more sophisticated, smoother, and taller. She watched David try to get his foot untangled from the fr
inge on the carpet for a moment before turning to Beth. “I did what I thought was right. I’m sorry if that makes it hard for you. I know you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sure we’ll be able to prove that. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m sure we can all come to a mutual understanding.” David finally freed his foot from the fringe. “We all want the same thing. We just have to get on the same page. Keep our heads together. Fight for the team! Make the problems with this accident go away so Mrs. Lamonte can go on with her life.”

  “I’m thinking that Park’s death wasn’t an accident, Mr. Rusch. Someone at least wanted to make him sick. They succeeded in killing him. Park was my friend. I want to know who’s responsible for his death. Don’t you want that, too, Beth?”

  Beth nodded. Her hair was a mess, and her face was blotchy from crying. “The police know about the insurance policy. They know Park was cheating on me with Cindy. They asked me to come in and answer some questions.”

  “I’ll need to speak to the attorney Mrs. Lamonte hired without realizing Lamonte, Rusch and Peterson would provide her defense.” David frowned and waved his briefcase, almost knocking a vase off of Peggy’s side table and rushing to retrieve it.” She’ll have to sign off on the case unless she wants to second chair. We want to provide Mrs. Lamonte the best possible defense in the light of these accusations made against her.”

  “I’m sure she has nothing to hide,” Peggy defended. “And Hunter Ollson is a good criminal attorney, Mr. Rusch. I’m sure she’s advising Beth to do the right thing.”

  “Hunter?” David stopped pacing for a moment and stared at her.

  “Didn’t I tell you her name?” Beth asked him.

  “Hunter Ollson?”

  The doorbell rang again, this time persistently. It was followed immediately by pounding on the heavy portal. Peggy opened the door and stepped aside as Hunter rushed into the house.

  “What the hell is going on here?” she demanded, glaring at everyone. “I thought Beth was my client.” She paused in midtirade and blinked her pretty blue eyes. “Davey? Is that you?”